He makes the kit sing, the way Max Roach and Elvin Jones used to, while his cymbals have an almost Sunny Murray-esque attack at times.

Precision and restraint yield surprise and mystery; the music is so involving and complete that it's easy to forget that you're listening to solo percussion.

suggested that Taylor viewed the album as "an opportunity to show all the possibilities for a fresh approach to music making that can come from percussion alone," and wrote: "Taylor takes this occasion... to show you stuff you won't hear on all the numerous, critically acclaimed projects he became involved with, but Myths and Morals makes it pretty clear why he's constantly in demand for these projects.

"[13] Commenting for A Jazz Noise, Dave Foxall remarked: "this is not your average drum album filled with show-off chops, complex tricks, and a wilfully obscure collection of percussion instruments... Myths and Morals is a damn sight more nuanced than that, leaning heavily on a subtle application of texture and colour... Incredibly intimate, surprising, and certainly hypnotic.

On Myths and Morals, these techniques are as much a matter of Taylor's limb independence as they are his aesthetic approach, which gathers together heavy grooves, free improvisation, mbira melodicism, and electronic manipulation.